


Loud Nights

by thecatinthepurplepants



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aphrodisiacs, Awkwardness, Drugged Sex, Eventually Resolved Romantic Tension, Grinding, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecatinthepurplepants/pseuds/thecatinthepurplepants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night.</p>
<p>He’s done this every night the two of you have been on patrol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patrol

**Author's Note:**

> My first work in the Fire Emblem fandom and it's pretty much straight up smut. Wonderful. At least I can blame my friend for the idea. Well, enjoy what me and my friend have come to call "the Chromsturbation fic".

Every night.

He’s done this every night the two of you have been on patrol.

At first you’d been excited for this, it’s been forever since you’ve been able to spend time alone with him. Lissa and the other shepherds are back at the castle doing some combat and endurance training with Vaike so it was just up to you and Chrom to keep the peace and keep the area free of marauders. It’s been fairly quiet as of recent so there only really needed to be the two of you.

You’ve been hiking between a few smaller villages around the castle and camping in the wilderness off the side of the trails for about a week and during the day it was fun. The two of you are closer than ever and Chrom was always so relaxed when it was just the two of you. It reminds you of when you were both young and camping in the woods just beyond the castle walls when you were trying to teach him how to survive in the wild. But you weren’t exactly expecting _this_ to happen.

Another desperate keen tears through the still night air as you lay on your back in your tiny personal tent. You roll away from the slick noises and breathy moans and try to ignore it. But no matter how you squeeze your eyes shut and try to block out the sounds of him pleasuring himself you can’t get to sleep. You drag a hand through your hair and the other grips your blanket with white knuckles when he lets out one of those sobs that makes something hot stir in your lower body. 

Sure, you knew he’s been… exploring himself since he was about thirteen years old. You remember him insisting on setting up his tent at the very edge of camp during marches with the shepherds, “just in case there was an ambush” was the excuse he’d always used. Even then you always set your tent up next to his just in case there really _was_ an ambush in the middle of the night. Honestly, what was a teenager even going to do in the event of an ambush, and there was no way you were going to leave the prince unprotected. He’d always had quite a healthy libido and you remember hearing the occasional soft groan or gasp in the dead of night. You were able to just roll over and ignore it then, but he was never quite this _loud_ before. 

“Ah! Yes, gods _yes_!” 

Oh, and he also had a habit of blurting out things when he was in the heat of it. You wonder if he even hears how loud he is, the thought crosses your mind that maybe he does this in his sleep. But then you think that if that were the case his words would at least be slurred, you’d heard him talk in his sleep and it was always unintelligible at best. When he curses in that desperate, reedy voice you bite your lip and feel your breath stutter. Why did his noises have to go straight to your crotch? You shouldn’t be physically attracted to your lord, it’s just plain unprofessional. 

An image of him in the process of bringing those noises out of himself flashed behind your eyelids without your consent. Chrom with his blanket kicked off of him, jerking himself until his breath came short, his face flushed, and his back arched off his sleeping mat. You shake it from your head as soon as you feel yourself aching in your undershorts. 

What did you do to deserve this? You’d like to consider yourself a good person. You’ve devoted your life to defending the royal family. Been a good knight. A man of your word. And yet somehow you ended up listening to your Prince, the man you swore to protect at all costs, making noises more fit for the walls of a brothel than a tent in the woods. 

You can’t help the intrusive thoughts, you’ve been having filthy thoughts about Chrom every night for the past week as soon as he started making those equally filthy noises. It made you have a bad case of blue balls every morning and you were losing sleep due to how uncomfortable it was to try and ignore your body’s urges. It hurts worse and worse every night and you’re starting to find the discomfort unbearable. 

Not to mention you have to deal with the guilt of listening to him every night and then look him in the eyes as if nothing had ever happened. This is _your lord_ , and yet you can’t find the courage to be truthful with him and tell him that you can hear him from your tent. You can’t find it in you to blame Chrom, he probably thinks you’re asleep right now. You become even more ashamed with yourself every time you find yourself painfully turned on by his sounds. 

You chew your lip and contemplate how you could possibly make things easier on yourself. A thought crosses your mind like it has almost every night this past week, but you actually entertain the idea this time. He would never know if you decided to just… Take care of things. You aren’t nearly as loud as he is and you know how to muffle any noises that you might let slip. No one has to know, it was just tending to the body’s natural functions. So what if Chrom happened to be loudly doing the same in the next tent over?

You hear him sob again and decide to go for it before you change your mind and end up pent up for yet another day. You shove your hand into your undershorts and wrap your fingers around yourself, circling your thumb around the head of your cock. You sigh a bit louder than you thought you would and hear him stutter in his ministrations and his breath catch for a second. You freeze, listening carefully to the sounds from outside your tent. After a second or two he goes back to what he was doing and so do you, although in a less fervent manner than him. Hell, he sounded like he was going at it even harder than before. You have a brief flicker of worry go through you, you hope he doesn’t hurt himself. It wasn’t that far fetched of an idea, at least for him. He tended to get carried away in the moment during battle so that might carry over into other things. 

You decide to be more careful, keeping your free hand over your mouth while the other started pumping you slowly. At first you try to block out Chrom’s noises but you just want to end this quickly, so you use anything that works you closer to that edge. You take in his sounds and the way they make shivers go up and down your spine, how they make you imagine how his skin would look in contrast to the sheets on your bed in your room back at the castle. An image of him laying under you, naked and vulnerable, flashes in your head and instead of being alarmed by it like you know you should be, you gasp softly and pump yourself faster to it. 

You work yourself towards the precipice of your climax at a brutal pace with Chrom’s cries ringing in your ears, panting harshly. You imagine grabbing hold of his slender hips and rocking into him, of you being the one being the one to make him let out those noises. You fully expect to be absolutely ashamed and disgusted with yourself when this is done and over with but for the moment you’re riding on a wave of pleasurable sparks going up your back and the white heat growing in your abdomen. 

What you weren’t expecting to happen was Chrom sobbing out your name, “Mmmnn! Fuck, yes, _Frederick!_ ” It’s enough to make you turn your face into your pillow and groan. 

You’re so close and you can tell he is too, he’s making those whimpery sounds and you can hear him squirming around on his blanket in that way he does when he’s about to come. You pant into the brisk night air of your tent and grit your teeth to trap any noises as you spill into your hand, your hips giving a few feeble jerks forward. He comes in his own tent with a drawn out whine that makes you shudder and lick your lips.

You settle your breathing and come down from your high, feeling sleep deprived, drained, and a little sticky. You wipe your hand and dick off with one of your older handkerchiefs, one that you wont regret burning in the morning. You toss it aside and lay back down quietly, sighing one last time before you close your eyes.

It’s when you try to drift off to sleep that the guilt finally does hit you. You’ve just satisfied your sexual urges to the thought of fucking your lord. You drag a hand down your face and wonder how you’re going to face him the next morning, sleep in the tent next to him for the last night of your trek before you reach home, talk to him like nothing was wrong after what you’d just done. But then alarm hits you as you remember a certain detail about what exactly had just happened.

He said your name.

No, he _moaned_ your name while he was coming towards his climax.

You feel your face nearly catch on fire and you know that you have to suck it up, and talk to him tomorrow. You can’t just let something like this happen, know something like this, and not at least try to talk it out like adults. You do have the thought that you could just never speak of it again, pretend like nothing happened and go about your lives like you always had before. But you owed it to him to tell him the truth. Not to mention, if he went on another large march and didn’t realize how loud he was he could accidentally ruin his reputation with his men. Especially if he happened to cry out your name again.

You sigh and at least try to shake off some of the shame twisting in your gut so you could sleep, you’re going to need a well rested mind to properly talk with him tomorrow morning comes. So you close your eyes again and let the post orgasm fatigue that settled in your limbs lead you into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up the next morning to the sound of Chrom starting to eat breakfast outside. The air is humid and warm in your tent but it isn’t the cool morning dew you usually woke to on these trips, you usually got up with the sun as one of the first to rise. You figure that the past few days of lost sleep and tiring yourself out last night caused you to sleep in a couple hours. You know Chrom wouldn’t want to wake you up if you aren’t up before him, he always talks about you working so hard and deserving your sleep. 

You sit up and run a hand through your hair, trying to steel yourself for what you’re going to have to bring up very soon. You get up, change, roll up your sleeping mat and blankets, decide that the roll is too loose, re-roll it, and have to stop yourself from re-rolling it a third time when you realize that you’re procrastinating. You get everything together in your saddlebag and make your way out of your tent and into the morning sun.

Chrom is sitting on a log in front of the still smoldering fire, not yet in his armor and smiling at you in that easy, charismatic way only really he can do. His dusk blue hair is still damp, telling you he’s just gotten done washing himself in the nearby stream. “Ah, you’re finally up Frederick. Good morning, want some breakfast before you bathe?” He asks, shaking the bags of jerky and trail mix in his hand at you. 

You find that the nerves settling in your stomach have killed your appetite so you shake your head, “No thank you, milord. I’d rather just bathe today, I find that I’m not really hungry at the moment.” You keep your voice level but you’re just hoping he doesn’t see past your slightly forced politeness and into how anxious you are.

However, you don’t have much to worry about with him. He doesn’t tend to be incredibly good at reading the moods of people based on the atmosphere alone. He mostly looks concerned, “Are you feeling alright? You’re always going on to everyone else about how breakfast is important to have your wits about you and your body fueled for the day. You aren’t feeling sick are you?” He asks. 

You sigh, “Yes milord, I assure you I’m feeling okay. I’m just not feeling hungry.” You say curtly as you start to walk towards the stream where you can hear it babbling behind the cover of the trees. “I’ll be right back, milord.” You yell over your shoulder. 

You quickly wash in the freezing water, it hadn’t been heated up by the sun yet with it only being about mid spring. You try to think of what you want to specifically say as you wash, go over a few of his possible responses and your responses to those responses until you realize you’re getting ahead of yourself and decide to just figure out how you want to start the conversation.

You change back into your clothes and take a deep breath before you walk out of the trees and towards the camp. He looks up at you in mid chew, his cheeks puffed up slightly with the missing half to the partially eaten strip of jerky in his hand. He swallows quickly, “Hey, why the serious look? Did you just have some horrible revelation while you were taking a bath in the stream?” He joked.

You don’t laugh. “Chrom, milord, I need to speak with you about something.” His smile falters and fades and you see his face get a little paler. He knows you only use his name when things are serious. He just nods and scoots over on the log to make room for you, trying to hide his nervous gulp. You walk over and sit next to him. You make sure to keep a few inches between you and him.

He clears his throat and lets his gaze flicker up to your face, but not to your eyes, “So, uh, what was it you wanted to talk about?” He asks a little hesitantly.

You take another deep breath and decide to go with the direct approach, no sugar coating, quick like an amputation. “You have been very… _Loud_ these past few nights and I wanted to ask you to learn to muffle your... noises.”

You have never seen Chrom’s face turn _that_ red in all the years you’ve known him. His mouth opens and closes like a fish lying on the bank of a river and his eyes are wide with shock. You sigh and keep talking since he seems to be at a loss for words at the moment, “If you were to continue with your habit on a march your soldiers would hear you and criticize you for making them lose sleep, which would drop morral. Not to mention it could possibly damage your reputation.” You conclude, staring into the smoldering embers of the fire pit. You feel your chest constrict with nervousness and your cheeks flush with embarrassment at your own words.

After what seems like forever he finally replies in a voice that’s hardly more than a whisper, “I apologize, Frederick. I… I thought you were asleep.”

You can’t help but scoff, “How would _anyone_ be able to sleep through all that?” You ask, nervous laughter bubbling in your voice. You try to put a damper on your nerves, it makes you seem unprofessional. But then again, this isn’t exactly a situation in which professionalism is entirely needed. 

Chrom shrugs beside you and you swear that if his cheeks get any darker red the blood vessels in his face will burst. “Well, you used to be a heavy sleeper when we were younger.” He grumbles.

You think about that for a second, mostly about how he could have ever gotten that idea. You usually wake at the first light of dawn, are among the first to be awake and ready in the event of an ambush, and you’ve woken up from deer breaking twigs outside your tent before. You have never been a light sleeper in your life. “What? What in the world gave you that idea? I’ve trained myself to be a light sleeper since a young age in case of danger.” 

He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair which caused it to stick up at odd angles since it was board straight and damp. “When I was a little kid I used to be afraid of thunder, remember? I mean, I got over it especially after being around Ricken practicing his Elthunder tome. But I used to get scared and crawl into bed with you because back then I always thought… That you could protect me from anything. You never woke up so I just left the next morning before you got up so you never knew.” He explains, sounding sheepish at certain points, especially when he mentions that his younger self saw you as a source of safety.

You remember those nights. The thunder kept you awake and when he came tip-toeing into your room with his wide young eyes filled with terror you let him crawl into bed with you and hold onto you like a security blanket. Your chest fills with warmth at the sudden wave of nostalgia for a moment until you remember the topic at hand. “Of course I remember that, I was awake when you came in. The thunder was too loud for me to sleep and I just let you get into bed with me because I saw how scared you were.”

He blinks at you, “You… You were awake then?” He sighs heavily, “Gods, Frederick, I am so sorry. You really didn’t need to hear all that and just… I just…” He buries his face in his hands and groans in embarrassment. You try not to let it remind you of his groans from the nights previous and just pat him consolingly on the shoulder.

“It’s fine, milord. Everyone does things they regret and make mistakes.” You start to get up so you can go about getting things together and breaking camp, hoping to end the conversation there.

“Wait, I know we both want to stop talking about this but… Did you happen to hear… Anything else last night?” He asks, his voice sounding hesitant and scared. 

You know what he means by “anything else”. He wants to know if you heard him calling out your name. You think for a second, if you say yes you’ll have to acknowledge the fact that you know he fantasizes about you. It could end the relationship you have with him, completely shatter the easy trust and friendship. You know you’re guilty of thinking of him the same way. Now that you think about it maybe you have some feelings for him that are a lot less professional than what should be had between a knight and his lord. But for the sake of your relationship with him, the one built on years of knowing and protecting him, you lie. “No, I didn’t.” You say over your shoulder. It scares you a little with how easy is is to just say the words, to blatantly lie to your lord. You think you hear him sigh softly in relief.

With that, you and Chrom break camp in silence, put on your armor in silence, load the horses in silence. You don’t talk much the whole day, not when you take breaks to feed and water the horses or when you start to set up camp again at the end of the day. It’s tense and awkward and you start to wish you’d said yes to his question earlier just so you would have something to talk about, something to pull you away from the guilt that twists your insides into knots. You both settle down for the night, maybe shooting a few words back and forth over dinner but the atmosphere still being too awkward for much else. The two of you settle down for the night, say mumbled goodnights, and lie down in your respective tents as the moon rises above the trees.

A couple hours pass and both of you are very much not asleep. You stare at the fabric of the tent above you and listen to the sounds of the night around you as well as the uncomfortable fidgeting of Chrom in the next tent over. He keeps tossing and turning like he can’t find a comfortable sleeping position, or like he has too much pent up energy. He starts to sound like he’s getting more and more frustrated. You hear him flop into another sleeping position with a grunt and then he lets out a heavy sigh. 

You decide that pretending not to hear him would be fairly childish so you speak up, “Are you done flopping around like a dead fish now, milord?” You say with no small amount of sarcasm. You find it kind of comical in a way that that sentence was the longest one you’ve said to Chrom all day.

He huffs out of his nose, “I’m sorry if I’m keeping you awake, Frederick. I’m just sort of…” He trails off.

“Pent up?” You finish for him.

He sighs again and you hear him drag his hand down his face, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He replies quietly.

You both fall silent for a minute. You think hard for that minute and you’re the one to eventually break the silence, “Milord, if you need to I wont mind, I’m pretty much used to it by now anyways-”

He cuts in and you can practically _hear_ him blushing, “Frederick, _no_! I’m not gonna do... _that_ while you’re awake and listening in the next tent over! Just go to sleep, I’ll be fine.”

You grit your teeth, “I _can’t_ sleep.”

The sound of shifting fabric in his tent tells you that he’s sitting up, “What? What reason do _you_ have not to be able to sleep?” He asks a bit incredulously.

You can’t think of a way to answer that question without giving away the lie you told him earlier. You have nothing to lose sleep over that he knows about, and if you were to tell him that you were guilty he’d want to know why out of concern to be able to assure you. You knew him well enough by now to know what he would do no matter what you say, or at least something close to what he would do. No matter what you could say you can’t see it ending up in any way that doesn’t make you lie to him more, which you don’t want to do twice in one day, or any way that lets you uphold your current lie. Then you start to think about the fact that this is the first time you’ve lied to him in all the time you’ve known him.

You don’t know how long you were thinking but you’re brought out of your thoughts by Chrom’s voice, “Frederick? Did you fall asleep?” He asks.

“No, I just…” You trail off with an irritated huff, trying to find something, _anything_ to say to him that won’t injure your relationship with Chrom even more. But you can’t think of one thing, not a single thing to say that would help more than hurt. So you conclude that the only thing that maybe it would be best just to tell him the truth and get it over with. If it completely breaks the friendship you two have then at least it will end with the two of you being honest. You sit up, “Milord, I must tell you something.”

He groans, “Again? Gods strike me down if I could possibly do something _even more_ embarrassing than what I’ve already done.” His voice sounds muffled and you can tell he’s trying to cover his face with his hands.

You get out of your own tent and only hesitate a split second before going into his in just your night shirt and undershorts. He’s sitting up in bed and looking up at you pleadingly as if he’s asking for you to at least sugar coat it a little this time. His hair is slightly messed up from all that tossing and turning and his cheeks are still a little pink with embarrassment, not much light gets through the fabric of the tent but the light that does falls on his features to make him look even more beautiful than usual. You have always known that your lord is handsome, it was just a known fact. But after recent events you wonder just how much of that time you spent stealing glances at him in recent years really was just simple aesthetic appreciation and how much was physical attraction. You sit down on the end of his sleeping mat with your legs criss crossed in front of you.

You take a deep breath, “There’s no other way to say it but I can’t sleep because of guilt. I lied to you earlier today.” You say, looking down at your lap to avoid his gaze.

“O-oh…” He stutters out before pausing, “Please tell me what you lied about was when you said you weren’t feeling sick this morning.” He pleads.

You crack a small smile despite yourself, “I’m afraid not, milord.” You glance up in time to see his face shift from mild worry to outright dread. “When you asked if I had ‘heard anything else’ I know what you really meant and the truthful answer is yes, I did. I… I heard you… Say my name.” You manage to just barely mumble out the last few words. You look up at him to see his face a mask of fear, more so than any time you’ve been on the battlefield together. His fear during a battle, if it was even there at all, was always mixed equally with determination. This was just that kind of terror that makes you feel physically sick represented openly on his face. 

“Oh…” He chokes out, his voice breaking harshly on the single word like glass on a stone floor.

“I am so sorry-” You both say in unison, it makes you both stop and look at each other again.

Chrom looks confused and his voice is still cracking in places when he speaks, “What are you sorry for?” He asks, sounding both curious and a little exasperated.

Your gaze wavers, “Well… For being untruthful to you of course.” You reply, “What do you have to be sorry for?” You ask in return.

He looks at the blanket covering his legs and his dark blue bangs cover his eyes, his answer comes very quietly, “For probably making you disgusted by me…” You sit silently for a second out of shock while he continues. “I’d understand if you were. I know that… People like me aren’t exactly given much acquiescence by most... I’m sorry for thinking of you that way Frederick, I just- it’s....” The more he spoke the more and more it sounded like he was going to cry, his voice going tight and every muscle in his body tensing up like wound springs. He just keeps babbling in that broken voice that makes you feel like he was ripping out your heart, all of his composer and princely charm gone and replaced with panic. He just keeps talking, although it’s less talking than just sobbing now, even as you start to crawl over to him. “Please don’t hate me, I swear it wont happen again I-I can’t lose you Frederick I’m so sorry-”

You cut off his babbling by grabbing him by his shaking shoulders to make him look back up at you. You look directly into his eyes, which are full of sadness and fear and leaking salty tears down his cheeks. “Chrom, there is nothing in this world that could ever make me hate you or be disgusted by you, especially not anything like the type of people you happen to be attracted to. Besides, if you should feel guilty about being attracted to the same gender then so should I.” You blurted out that last part without thinking but he deserves to know.

He looks up at you with wide, damp eyes but at least he doesn’t look terrified anymore. “You… You too?” His voice is barely a squeak around the lump that must be in his throat.

You flush a little and nod, “Yes, me too.” You confirm, “It was actually a more recent revelation I’ve had.” You add in a mumble.

He clenches his jaw and like he’s going to start crying again before he lunges forward to wrap his arms around your shoulders and bury his face in your neck. He chokes out another sob and you feel hot tears on your skin. It startles you enough to knock you off balance and make you topple backwards onto the mat. The fall doesn’t make him loosen his grip or even seem to phase him, he just keeps croaking out half sentences between heaving breaths and sobs, “I thought… Can’t believe… Was so sure… Thank you, I just...” You wrap your arms around him and rub soothing circles into the tense muscles in his back, it reminds you of when he was little and he used to come to you for comfort. 

It takes him a good while for him to get the tears out of his system and by the end of it he’s just laying limply on top of you, sniffling occasionally with his head now rested on your collar bone because your shoulder and neck are cold and damp. You’re still rubbing little nonsensical patterns into his back with your fingers, enjoying his warmth and no longer having the weight of guilt pressing on you. Well, at least the guilt about lying to him, the guilt about the fact that you pleasured yourself to the thought of him is still there. But it’s a step in the right direction.

After a while he looks up at you with red eyes and puffy cheeks, “Hey Frederick?” He asks in a hoarse voice, quiet like if he talks too loud he’ll disrupt the moment. He continues after you grunt back at him, not bothering to open your eyes. “You said that you only found out recently, how’d you find out, I mean, if you’re comfortable with telling me that is?” 

That’s enough to make you open your eyes to look down at him, cheeks slowly growing pink and mind racing. “Um… Well, it’s a, uh, bit hard to explain.” You say, looking away and chewing your lip.

He tilts his head a little to one side, “How so? Is it just a long story or is it complicated?” He asks, so innocent, so naive to the fact that you’ve jerked yourself to the thought of pounding him into a mattress.

“Not really either so much as it is… Just kind of… Awkward…” You explain in a grumble.

He raises an eyebrow at you, “More awkward than you knowing that I’ve masturbated to the thought of you?” He says before realizing what had just come out of his mouth. His cheeks get red again and he lays his head back down on your chest so you can’t see his face.

You shrug, “It’s about exactly equal to that, I’d say.” 

His head jerks back up to look at you with his eyes wide with shock, a light going off in his head, “Wait, have you…?”

You avoid his gaze and your face is turning red and Gods you wish he’d stop looking at you so you could answer without him seeing how flustered you’re getting. “Well… I didn’t exactly plan to but it was kind of hard not to when you were being so loud in the other tent…”

His face floods with color before he hides behind his hands and slowly rolls off of you while making something akin to dying oxen noises. His shoulders start shaking again and a small amount of panic shoots through you as you wonder if he’s crying again. You roll on your side to face the back of his head and place a hand on his shoulder, “I’m very sorry, milord. It was entirely unprofessional of me and… Are you laughing?” You roll him onto his back and he uncovers his bright red face to reveal that, yes, he is laughing breathlessly.

He actually _snorts_ for the first time that you’ve heard in years, you thought he’d grown out of it but apparently not. “I spent all this time wondering if you would hate me for being attracted to you… And it turns out you were beating it to the thought of me in the next tent over.” He explains between gasps for breath and wheezes before he rolls to face you and buries his face in your chest to muffle his snorts.

You want to be mad at him for laughing but you can’t help it when you crack a smile and start laughing along with him. You wrap your arms around his middle and roll onto your back with him still in your grip, laughing out all the anxiety and guilt you’d been feeling the whole day.

The both of you settle back down and you’re rubbing patterns into his back again but you’re both smiling this time and you finally feel at ease again. Odd how just laughing together could diffuse all the previous tension. After what feels like forever he lifts his head off your chest and you can feel him looking at you so you crack open an eye to look back at him. “Hey.” He whispers.

“Hello.” You reply, letting your fingers feel the ridge of his spine where it curves. 

He looks down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes, “Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice soft.

You think about it for a second before you decide that you have nothing to lose, smile, and nod your consent. He moves himself upwards a little so his face is level with yours and you move your hand up his back to feel the short hairs on the back of his neck. He looks you in the eyes and hovers his lips above yours for a second before he presses them together. It’s sweet and lingering and his lips are so soft and warm when they move against yours. It doesn’t last for more than a couple seconds and it’s not nearly enough, it leaves you wanting more of him. 

You open your eyes to see him looking back at you with your thoughts reflected in the glint of his eyes and the way he bites his lip. You drag him back down to press your mouths back together and this time it’s more hot and hungry, hands tangled in hair and fast heartbeats. You tilt your head to the side to make the kiss deeper and he sighs.Your head feels light and empty and you want to fill it back up with nothing but him and the way he lets out this soft noise when you run your tongue over the seam of his lips and he opens his mouth for you. 

You explore each other’s mouths with your tongues and Gods does it feel good, he makes the best noises when you feel the details of his mouth like you own it. You eventually have to come apart to breathe, how long it takes you to do so, however, you don’t know. There’s a strand of drool going down your chin and your head feels fuzzy. It takes you a second to have the full realization hit you that you’ve just kissed Chrom, that Chrom is resting his forehead on yours, that Chrom is laying on top of you and sharing the same air as you as you both try to catch your breath.

He lets his head drop to rest his forehead on the mat next to your ear and he whispers a soft “Shit.” Into the blanket. You would chastise him for his language if that weren’t the exact word you would use to sum up your feelings on what had just happened, so you just nod your agreement. 

After a minute he squirms and makes an uncomfortable noise and you can feel that he’s hard against your hip. You’re in a similar state against the upper part of his thigh and it’s starting to get a little uncomfortable for you too. He looks back up at you with his lower lip pulled between his teeth and a wanting look in his eyes that goes straight to where you’re already straining in your undershorts. “Frederick? Do you think we could maybe...?” He trails off but you think you can piece together what he wants to ask you. Dear Gods this man is going to kill you.

You run your hand up and down his back and steady yourself before answering, “Are you sure, milord?” You ask.

He nods, “Yes, Frederick, I’m absolutely positive. I’ve wanted this for a couple years now, actually. And stop calling me ‘milord’ when we’re in bed together.” 

You roll your eyes a little, he always insisted you call him by his name but you guess you should oblige in the current situation. You think for a second and worry starts to nag at you again, “But mi-, I mean Chrom, are you sure it’s the right thing to do? I’m your knight, not to mention that you’re the _prince_ of Ylisse. If rumor spread that we… Did something together it would ruin your reputation for life.”

He furrows his brows a little in thought, “I know that, but no one has to find out about it. We can keep it between just the two of us, although one other person does know that I’ve had an interest in you but I know I can trust her. It will be a well kept secret, I promise.” He assures you.

“Wait, someone else knows? Who is she? Are you absolutely sure she can be trusted with information like that?” You ask. You wonder to yourself who he could possibly trust enough with information that could destroy his good name and life as prince.

He looks around as if someone might be listening and speaks in a hushed tone, “Maribelle figured it out on her own and asked me about it one day. I almost started crying and pleading like I did with you until she told me that she’s the same way. As it turns out, she’s had romantic affections towards Lissa for quite some time and that she never thought she would find someone else like her in the Shepherds. After that we’ve been spending more time talking together over tea and becoming better friends. It’s nice to have someone who understands to talk to.” He explains, giving his neck a rest by laying his head down on your chest, tucked just under your chin. He smells like the stream he bathed in that morning, salty sweat and tears, and a long day on a dusty path.

You’d expected to be shocked but instead it makes a lot of sense to you, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her be more friendly with a man than she has been with Lissa and you had seen the way she looked at her sometimes. You’d also noticed Chrom hanging around her alone more often lately but didn’t think much of it but now it makes even more sense. You smile, “Well, it is good that you have a friend to talk to about these things and I do trust Maribelle. I’ve put my life in her hands more than once on the battlefield when I was badly injured and I trust her off the battlefield as well. But I still just don’t think it would be wise to do such things now.”

He stays quiet for a few heartbeats before he responds softly, “Do you just not want to do this with me, Frederick?”

You look down at him and tilt his chin up with one of your hands so he looks back up at you, “Of course I want to.” You kiss him on his already kiss bruised lips and pull away to finish your thought, “I’m just thinking that this might not be the best time. We’re out in the open and just a day’s journey from the castle. If someone hears us rumors would be flying back home before we even set foot through the gate tomorrow afternoon. And people would be suspicious if we come back and you suddenly have a limp with no explanation.” It takes you second to think over the last sentence you’ve just said before your cheeks dust pink with embarrassment.

Chrom’s face turns much brighter red and you can actually _feel_ him get harder against your thigh. He groans in frustration and maybe a little pain before he sets his head back down on your chest with a thump, “Okay, we don’t have to go all the way but can we please just do _something_? If we don’t I’ll be walking funny tomorrow for a different, and much more unpleasant reason.” He gripes at you, fidgeting more.

You snort and sit up with him so he’s sitting on your lap, “Very well, what exactly did you have in mind?” You ask, brushing a bit of his hair behind his ear to get it out of his face.

He blushes harder and looks away, “Do I really have to describe how I want us to go about this? Why can’t we just kiss like before and go from there?” He asks quietly.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “So you just want to wing it and see where things lead then?” 

He sighs, wrapping his arms around your neck, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying Frederick. Believe it or not, not everything needs to be planned out in advance. Now please, can we just get started already?” He asks, crashing his lips into yours before you can answer him.

Even if you’re a bit irritated that he’s pretty much shutting you up by kissing you you can’t complain much since you really do enjoy kissing him, as it turns out. Sure, it was pretty apparent that he wasn’t experienced at all, he was sloppy and unpracticed and he seemed to guess his way around things. It makes your heart squeeze in a happy and entirely cheesey way when you think about the possibility that you very well could be his first kiss. But he seems to learn what to do with his teeth, tongue, and lips as he goes and his enthusiasm makes up for his inexperience.

After a good couple of minutes you find yourself with one arm wrapped around his upper back and your other hand is planted on his ass to hold him firmly against you. He has his arms wrapped tight around your neck and his hands tangled in your hair, letting out soft moans when you do things he likes with your tongue. You aren’t prepared for when he rolls his hips against yours to rub his straining erection right against yours. It forces a startled groan out of you at the sudden surge of pleasure.

Chrom echos a mewl back at you and rolls your hips together a few more times as he gets a sort of off tempo rhythm going. The two of you stop kissing and just pant and groan with your foreheads pressed together and eyes half closed. You start to reciprocate and rut up against him along with putting your other hand on the other side of his rear to guide his movements. He tilts his head back a little and lets out a keen, you take the opportunity to lick from his throat up to the shell of his ear and then pepper his neck with kisses. You make sure not to leave any marks on him, as much as you want to litter his pale skin with dark hickies.

After a while of rutting against each other like a couple of animals in heat he whines at you, “Frederick… Not… It’s not enough… Just, touch it… Something… _Please_.” He sounds desperate and it’s almost enough to make you throw him onto his stomach and go back on your earlier agreement not to actually have sex.

Instead of just taking him then and there like every fiber of your being is screaming to do, you push him back a little and pull down his undershorts in the front to free his twitching cock. He gasps and buries his face in the curve of your neck, embarrassed. You give it a good once over, noting how the curly hair around the base is just as blue as the hair on his head.

You get an idea and pull out your own erection from your undershorts with a quiet sigh, feeling the cool night air hit it in a burst of sensation from the temperature difference. You drag Chrom’s hips back forward a little, drawing a soft, questioning noise from him. His breath stutters when you press the undersides of your members together and start stroking the both of you with one hand holding you both together. It feels hot and slick and _good_ and you can’t help but let out an unrestrained groan. 

His breathing picks up again and he starts to let out soft whimpers every so often, his grip on the back of your nightshirt getting tighter. He finally peeks down where you’ve set up a quick, steady pace in pumping the two of you. He mumbles, “Huh, even bigger than I thought…” You can’t help but feel a small swell of pride. You swipe the pad of your thumb over his slit and he arches his back and nearly chokes on a moan as his hips buck into the touch. He rests his head back on your shoulder and seems to decide to just let you take over save for the occasional, feeble jolt of his hips.

You close your eyes and just let yourself feel the hot pleasure coil in your lower stomach when you’re not looking at Chrom’s face. He looks more beautiful than you could have ever imagined, eyelids fluttering, cheeks red, and his kiss swollen lips parted to let his hot breath gust over your neck and let out his soft noises. The noises that _you_ were bringing out of him, with _your_ touch. The thought is almost enough to make you finish right then and there. Although you note that they’re quieter sounds than the ones he was making the previous nights.

A few minutes later and you feel yourself coming closer, you’re even starting to make some sounds that intermingle with his. You lift your forehead from where you rested it on his shoulder and try to put together a sentence that makes sense, “Chrom, Are… Are you close?” You ask.

To your surprise he shakes his head at you, “N-no, need you to… fingers, just, please… Use spit and just… Please, Frederick…” His voice is high and strained, he sounds even more needy than before and again you feel that itch to simply fuck him into his sleeping mat.

It takes you a few seconds to piece together what it is he must want before you get the idea and suddenly some things make a lot of sense. You now know why he was so loud for the past few nights. Chrom has discovered his prostate.

You swallow thickly around the dryness in your mouth and throat and nod, unable to answer with words. You continue to stroke the two of you as you bring your other hand to your own mouth and busy yourself with wetting three of your fingers with spit. Thank the gods you’re good at multitasking. You manage to get enough spit on them quickly and hook your thumb over the back of his undershorts to yank them down over the curve of his ass. His rear isn’t exactly the fullest but it was still nice to look at, you get a nice view from over his shoulder. You slowly slip your middle finger past the tight ring of muscle and hope that your spit was good enough lubrication.

He throws his head back sharply and keens again with a full body shiver. You try to keep up the pace you had with stroking the both of you and slowly work the first finger in and out of him at the same time. Chrom starts to squirm and whines at you again, “More, one more, _please._ ”

You hesitate before guessing that he knew his limits well enough by now and obliging, pressing in a second finger along side the first. It makes his hips stutter like he doesn’t know whether to buck forward or rock backwards into your fingers. He whines through gritted teeth and you match the pace that you’re stroking the two of you with how you’re fingering him. 

He’s panting heavily against your neck and starts sounding more like he did the nights before, but this time he babbles at you between mewls and moans. “B-better than... doing it myself. Yes, Frederick, _yes!_... Fuck, so good... Just, angle them... Down, just a little bit.” 

His slurred chatter and words of encouragement make your face feel like it’s on fire and your hips jerk forward on their own accord. You barely realized that he’s asked you to do something but you comply and when you do he _wails_. You keep your fingers angled towards that bundle of nerves and pick up the pace, burying your face in the curve of his neck to breath in his scent. His babble turns unintelligible and then into whimpers to let you know that he’s just as close as you are to climaxing. 

He clings onto you for dear life and you feel him start to shake against you and tighten around your fingers right as he cries out a loud, broken version of your name and you feel something hot and sticky splatter on your wrist. You aren’t very close behind him and when you feel your stomach tighten and your high hit you hard enough to make your vision speckle with white you bite down on his shoulder. You let out a muffled, but still embarrassingly loud groan and both your hands stutter and stop in their movements.

The two of you slump against each other as you come down, letting the world fall back into place around the both of you. Your fingers slip out of him and you release both of your softening cocks. You shudder as the air around you starts to bring the temperature of your once hot skin back down. Suddenly you’re very, very tired and sweet mother of the gods you just made Chrom come. You decide that you’re far too tired to deal with the shock of the moment and bring your face away from his shoulder to look around his tent. “Chrom, where’s a handkerchief?” You ask. The roughness of your voice surprises you a little.

He sighs against your neck, “Right over there near my bag.” He mumbles before he almost cracks his jaw with a wide yawn. You see what you’re looking for next to the pile of his clothes from the day and his armor. The tent is small so you only have to lean over a small ways to get it so you can go about wiping off your fingers, hands, and wrist. And quite a ways up your forearm. Damn, he can shoot pretty far.

He doesn’t stop clinging to you as you clean the two of you up and is quiet save for a soft, unhappy grumble as you wipe his oversensitive skin clean and pull his undershorts back up along with your own. Once you’re done with the clean up you yawn and start to think that you really do not feel like going back to your own tent.

“Milord, would it be alright if we shared this tent for tonight?” You ask him after clearing your throat to help get rid of the scratchiness in your voice.

He lifts his head off your shoulder finally to look at you, he looks drowsy and pleasure drunk. You want to kiss him again. “Fine, you can sleep with me if you promise to stop calling me milord in situations like this.” He says.

You realize your mistake and can’t help but chuckle before you kiss him as slow and sweet as you know how, “Deal, now let go of me for a second so I can lay down.”

The two of you get situated, he tucks his head under your chin and you wrap both arms around his back to hold him against your chest. After a while of having your thoughts nag at you, you decide to break the silence. “What does this make us?” You ask quietly.

You feel him heave a sigh, “I don’t quite know. It doesn’t really have to change much if you don’t want it to, at least in front of other people. I… I do want more of _this_ with you. But I don’t want this to make things awkward. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” He replies, rubbing little circles into your back with the tips of his fingers.

Deep down you feel a little bit disappointed, despite how much you want to deny it. Maybe you do want this to change things. You want to be able to call him yours, at least behind closed doors. But you nod in agreement, you aren’t about to ask for too much and ruin things. Continuing to be his friend while also being the one he goes to for sex is far more than you could ever hope for. “Yes, I understand. We’ve been friends for many years and I don’t want to destroy all that by letting this be something that comes between us. We’ll just continue with how we usually are with… Other things on the side when we get the chance to be alone.” 

He smiles against your collarbone and kisses the skin there, “That sounds great, Frederick.” He nuzzles his face into your chest and his voice comes out muffled against your shirt, “It’s weird, I’m actually glad you heard me fucking myself to the thought of you.”

You laugh and he laughs along with you, he’s too tired to be embarrassed about what he’s just said. “Goodnight, Chrom.” You whisper into his hair.

“G’night, Frederick.” He replies while yawning. 

The two of you fall asleep in a tangle of limbs. When you wake up the next day and get to kiss him so you aren’t even irritated when you find that your arm is asleep because he layed on it all night. You reach the castle just about an hour past noon and you have to restrain laughter when Maribelle drags him off to hound him for details about the past week just minutes after he walks through the gates. After they get done talking Maribelle has a smug look on her face and Chrom looks like he wants to throw himself from the highest tower of the castle from sheer embarrassment. Of course, he told her everything.


	2. Late Night Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maribelle gives Frederick a "special" gift and him and Chrom enjoy it thoroughly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the chapter where they actually bang, I hope you guys enjoy~

You loop another stitch into the fabric laying on your lap, the oil lamp on your bedside table providing just enough light for you to read by. The rain outside hits your bedroom window in sheets and you hear the low rumble of thunder growl in the distance, followed by a faint flash that flickers a blue light through your room for a split second. It’s late but you won't get any sleep with the that storm going on outside so you’ve decided to get some sewing done. You’d promised Meribelle over tea that you’d make her a shawl to match one of her gowns, she’s apparently always wanted one for that dress. You exchanged the favor for some… Special lubricating liquid she’d obtained which she described as “specially made”. She wouldn’t specify what that meant, she just said that it was a surprise and gave you a wink before walking away.

You had been getting involved in the get togethers that Chrom and Maribelle had been having since before you and Chrom got involved. It started out with him dragging you along but now you end up meeting up with her even if Chrom can’t join you. It’s surprisingly nice to be able to sit down and chat about things openly. Just the other day you and her arranged the deal to trade a shawl for a bottle of lubrication when Chrom wasn’t able to attend. You’ve known Maribelle for quite some time but you’ve discovered that she’s very pleasant to talk to in a one on one setting, if a little bit gossipy. She loosens up quite a bit when alone, even if she warmed up to your presence a bit slowly for the first few times you tagged along with Chrom.

You also found out that Chrom _drastically_ underplayed her infatuation with lady Lissa. That woman could go on for hours about Lissa, although when she does she ends up lamenting about the fact that Lissa is, as far as she knows, uninterested in women. You and Chrom have both tried to comfort her, although Chrom did a bit halfheartedly since this was his little sister you three were talking about and your attempts to provide comforting words ended up coming out a bit sarcastic. She pouted and told you to be grateful that the two of you were so lucky as to end up having an interest in someone who shared the feelings. 

The only downside was that she hounded the two of you, but mostly you now, for details on your and Chrom’s relationship. You know she thinks that there’s more romantic elements to your and Chrom’s… Arrangement and honestly you just want to keep her at bay for as long as possible. She would probably give you a good piece of her mind if she found out you had basically agreed to be sex friends with Chrom. She had come to be quite protective of him but you still don’t particularly know why you get the feeling that she’d be angry with you. But you mostly started getting the feeling after your first time having a get together with her and Chrom. When the three of you went to part ways to attend to your duties she yanked you down to her level so you could hear her hiss “If you hurt him, not even the graciousness of Naga could save you.” in your ear. Afterwards she just smiled at you like nothing had happened and walked away. Ever since then you’ve been very, very careful when telling her things. 

You know that you aren’t “hurting him”, or at least you don’t think so. He’s been acting happy as ever as of recently. If anyone was “getting hurt” here it was you. You know it’s selfish of you to wish for more than what you have but you can’t help it. You’ve never been closer to anyone in your life and you’ve come to love him so fiercely it even scares you a little. You want to hold him in your arms and know that he’s _yours_ , no matter what. And what the two of you do in private, at almost every opportunity, doesn’t help with the matter. 

Sometimes it’s him that corners you or drags you off to some secluded, unused room in the castle, sometimes it’s you that does it to him. But it’s mostly him. He has an even more voracious sexual appetite than you thought and it’s really putting your abilities to the test, so to speak. You being ten years older than him makes the playing field a bit uneven.

Then again you’re pretty sure that Chrom has a minorly overactive libido, which is also rather unfair. You remember a couple times when you fingered him until he came and then, while he was sucking you off, he used his free hand to make himself come again. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been able to come twice in a matter of minutes. You think he realizes that he has a bit of an advantage over you and he seems to be alright with it, you’ve discovered that he likes to have extra attention paid to him anyways. 

Even with all the filthy things you and your lord have done together, you have to admit that your favorite thing you get to do with him was kiss him. His lips are always so soft and you love when you hear him sigh and make those wonderful soft little noises when you do something right. It’s just intimate and close and _good_ and it makes your heart ache with just how much you crave that closeness with him.

Of course, for the sake of your relationship with the most important person in your life, you keep that craving to yourself. Although you think keeping it to yourself makes your heart ache even worse. 

You hear a soft knock at the door that makes you flinch and look away from your sewing needle and fabric. “Frederick? You awake?” You barely hear Chrom whisper from the other side of your door.

You smile and shake your head, setting the half finished shawl down onto the bedside table next to you, “Yes, milord, come in.” You reply as you stick your needle into your pincushion. 

He opens the door and slinks in, shutting the door quietly behind him. You notice that he’s just in a thin nightshirt and his undershorts, not to mention he’s barefoot, “Milord, you shouldn't be wandering around the castle halls in such insufficient clothing. You’ll catch a cold that way.” 

Chrom just rolls his eyes at you, “My room is only ten doors down from yours and I’m a grown man, Frederick, don’t worry.” He says in response to your worrying. He makes his way over to where you sit in your bed and climbs in like it’s just as much his as it is yours. He sidles up next to you, hooks one of his legs over your thighs under the covers, and wraps one of his arms around your chest. He rests his head on your shoulder and sighs in content, letting himself smile and close his eyes, the very image of tranquility in contrast to the storm raging outside.

You look down at him, smiling a little despite yourself, “Are you done making yourself at home now, Chrom?” You ask, amused by his brazen attitude when it came to showing physical affection, well, at least he was brazen when the two of you were alone.

He chuckles, “Yes, thank you for asking.” He replies. You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his shoulders to hold him closer to you.“Kind of feels nostalgic doesn’t it?” He says after a few moments of quiet. You hum questioningly at him and he elaborates, “You know, when I was little and scared of thunder? I only just realized it when I was walking into your room. I originally just thought to sneak into your room because the thunder and wind would be a good cover in case I accidentally made any noise on the way over. But now that I think about it it’s kind of funny, in a way.” 

You smile a little wider and kiss his forehead, “Yes, I suppose it kind of is.” You reply softly. You look down at him and take in his features in the golden, gently pulsing light of the oil lamp. He notices you gazing at him and looks up at you. He smiles and kisses you, it’s barely more than a peck but you feel that familiar warmth spread in your chest. You want to kiss him more. So you do. 

You switch your grip so that your arm are around his waist and pepper his face with quick kisses. He actually _squeals_ before he starts laughing and squirming in your grip. You roll onto your side to face him directly and wrap your other arm around his back, making sure he can’t get away. Once you’re satisfied with how much of your face you’ve covered with kisses you move onto the line of his jaw, then his neck. He’s still wriggling around in your arms and laughing breathlessly, you love hearing him laugh. You nip at his neck playfully and he lets out a startled yelp that was only followed by more wheezing laughter.

He looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye before he leans down and captures your lips in a heated kiss. You let out a soft groan when he pulls your lower lip between his teeth and you decide that you like where things are going. You kiss each other for a while and just enjoy the feeling, adding in teeth and tongues here and there. 

But then he starts kissing your neck and you can’t help but let him. He starts to pull your nightshirt over your head and you let him do that too. At this point you’ve learned to relinquish control to Chrom sometimes instead of insisting on doing everything yourself. Not to mention, it was always nice to lay back and let him do with you as he pleases. You lay back and let him do what he wants when he starts sucking red marks onto the skin about your collar bone. He always likes to leave marks on you where he knows no one but him will see, you can’t count how many hickies he’s given you over the past few weeks. 

You watch as he starts to kiss his way down your stomach and pulls your undershorts down, shivering when he flicks his tongue teasingly into your navel on the way down. You can’t help but already be hard by the time he’s settled between your legs. It isn’t the first time he’s sucked you off but you still can’t help but gasp softly when he licks up your length and swirls that wonderful tongue of his around the head. He takes you in his mouth and you groan, you love how his mouth feels on you. You especially love it when he takes all of you down to the base, hollows his cheeks, and starts to bob his head. You’re just barely able to keep your hips still, you’ve accidentally let yourself buck into his mouth once while he was sucking you off and he gagged and nearly threw up. He ended up laughing after he calmed down but after that little incident you learned to keep yourself still.

You close your eyes and let yourself pant and moan while he puts his mouth to use, tangling your fingers into his soft blue hair. After a few minutes you feel a familiar heat building in your stomach and you can tell you’re about to come. “Chrom, I’m close…” You whisper, your toes curling. To your surprise, once you tell him that you’re coming up on your orgasm he stops and pulls his mouth off of your twitching cock. “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?” You ask breathlessly.

He wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand before replying, “Nothing’s wrong Frederick. I was just thinking that, um, maybe we could try something different tonight.” He says with pink, slightly swollen lips from sucking you. He looks a little bashful but also a little excited and you can’t help but be curious.

“What exactly do you have in mind when you say ‘something different’?” You inquire, sitting up so you can be face to face with him.

He fidgets a little and bites his lip, “Well... I guess I thought that we could go all the way this time, if you catch my meaning.” He explains as he looks up at you through blue eyelashes, his cheeks pink. 

Oh.

_Oh._

You raise your eyebrows and feel your face flush bright red. You audibly swallow and think that this could be a good time to put the lube that Maribelle gave you to good use. “I… Are you sure?” You ask dumbly.

He smiles and rolls his eyes at you, “Yes, Frederick, I’m sure. I really want this.” He assures you, putting his hand on your thigh and rubbing little circles into the muscle with his thumb. 

You swallow again and you’re absolutely sure that you’ve never been this hard in your life. You nod back at him, “Alright. Alright, let's try it. Let me get something.” You reply. You lean over the side of the bed and open the drawer on your bedside table. You take out a bottle that’s not small but the majority of it can still fit in the palm of your hand. The glass starts out clear at the bottom and fades into a tinted pink color at the top. The stopper has a pink glass heart on the top and the contents are completely clear with the consistency of some type of oil.

Chrom raises an eyebrow at the bottle in your hand and sniggers a little, “Where’d you get that from? It sort of looks like a bigger version of a piece of jewelry Maribelle would wear.” He asks.

You shake your head and smile, “Funny you’d mention Maribelle, she’s the one who gave it to me. It’s lubricant, she got it for me in exchange for me making a shawl for her.” You explain to him, holding it out so he can get a closer look at it.

He has both his eyebrows raised now as he takes the bottle and examines it, “Wow, it looks pretty fancy. Did she say what was in it?” He inquires, taking out the stopper to take a look at the liquid inside. 

“No, she just said it was ‘special’, whatever that means. I suppose we should trust her though.” You assure him, taking the bottle back when he puts the stopper back in and hands it to you and setting it on the bedside table.

He moves up to sit in your lap, straddling your thighs, “Hopefully. Now, let's get started shall we? I want to see what makes that lube so special.” He says in what he considers his “sultry” voice, you can’t help but laugh whenever he uses it though. It’s hard to take him seriously when you know how much of a dork he really is. You wouldn’t change it for the world though. It’s just one of the things that makes him your Chrom.

Chrom stops you from laughing at him by kissing you. You settle your hands on his hips on that familiar little jut of his pelvis and his arms wrap around your shoulders. His lips move against yours and he sighs softly when you run your tongue over his lower lip. It all feels like coming home. 

When he grinds his hips against yours he manages to capture your member, which is still out of your undershorts, between his stomach and yours. You can’t help but gasp and let your hips jerk against his, trying to get more friction on your twitching cock. You feel him smirk against your lips before he opens his mouth and lets his tongue slide over yours. You grab his hips and rock against him, making him moan softly into your mouth. 

He let’s you take over save for moving with you as you grind against each other. You could feel that he was hard when he got on your lap but now you can tell that he’s most likely at a point to where it’s painful. You reach down and pull down the front of his undershorts just enough to let his cock out of it’s confines and he separates from your lips with a loud gasp when you start to stoke the two of you together. You’re panting and softly groaning along with his moans, watching his face as his eyes flutter shut and he bites his kiss swollen lips in an attempt to hold back his noises.

He looks at you with hooded eyes, “Frederick, if you don’t have your fingers in me in the next few seconds I’m going to be unhappy.” He warns, his voice tight with desperation. You feel your cock twitch against his in response to knowing how much he wants you and you reach for the bottle on the table. While you open the bottle and start to spread the lube on three of your fingers he strips out of his nightshirt and undershorts. The liquid isn’t cold like you expect it to be, in fact, it’s oddly warm and sort of makes the skin on your fingers tingle duly. You brush it off as just something probably put in the lube to make it feel better even as the warm tingle starts to go deeper than the skin and slowly moves up to your hand and wrist.

He gets situated on your lap again once he’s completely naked and you take no time, kissing his neck while you circle a lube slicked finger around his entrance. His breathing stutters and he mumbles, “Huh, feels… Weird.” You figure he means the sensation the lube causes which is starting to slowly work it’s way up your arm. He whimpers when you slide a finger into him, his breathing already starting to pick up. “So much better than just spit.” He whispers absently and you have to agree. He was just as tight as he normally was but your fingers slide into him with little to no resistance. 

You leave marks along his shoulders and collar bones as you work two, then eventually three fingers into him. He grips onto you and lets himself cry out and squirm against you, letting out a loud shout when you find his prostate. After a surprisingly short amount of time he starts to squirm in your lap and whimper at you like he does when he’s about to come. “Fr-Frederick… I can’t, gonna…” His whole body jerks and he comes onto both of your stomachs with a high keen. He collapses against you in a dead weight and breathes heavily against your neck. You can feel that his heart rate isn’t slowing even though he’s supposed to be coming down from his high. Not to mention his skin is almost burning. You yourself are feeling a little feverish yourself but you’re nowhere near as hot as him.

You pull your fingers out of him and he whines in protest. When you look down you see that he’s still hard just a few seconds after coming and raise your eyebrows, “Chrom, are you alright?” You ask, concerned. You’re starting to really wonder just what the hell was in that lubricant. 

He looks up at you and he looks just as desperate as he looks absolutely wrecked, a thin sheen of sweat on his flushed face, “Yes… Jus’ keep goin’... Feel so hot, please Frederick, need it.” He slurs, trying to grind against you like he needs you more that air.

You couldn’t possibly say no when he asks that nicely. Not to mention that your cock feels so hard that it aches. You grab the bottle back off the table and hastily spread a liberal amount over yourself. Whatever is in it works far quicker and more intensely when it’s on your cock and you suddenly understand very clearly why Chrom is acting the way he is. In a matter of seconds it makes your whole body burn and every nerve sensitive to the slightest touch. You could swear that your vision becomes tinted pink but you’re too busy focusing on kissing Chrom stupid and pushing him to lay on his back on the bed.

He wraps his legs around your waist and pulls your hips down towards his. You take the hint and line yourself up with his entrance, separating from the kiss because you don’t want to miss the look on his face as you push into him. You push in just past the tip and he’s so tight and you’re so over sensitive that your head is spinning. His breathing is coming in short gasps and he looks absolutely gorgeous under you while you inch into him. 

Even with whatever was in the lubricant in your system making you horny past the point of common sense you can still somehow find the capacity to worry over Chrom. Once you’re all the way in him to the base you wait for a little bit. The first reason being because being inside that tight heat is making you lightheaded and second is so you can put together a string of words so that they form a coherent sentence. “Chrom… You okay? Does… Doesn’t hurt?” You ask, your voice low and raspy in the way you get in the heat of things and the way you know Chrom likes.

He makes a face at you like he’s trying his best to piece together what you’re saying for a second before he nods, “Y-yes, m’good… Jus’ start slow.” He replies, squirming against you impatiently. 

You do as you're told and start to slowly move in and out of him with a low groan. Chrom lets out a pathetic whimper and grips the sheets near his head with one hand and your hair with the other. You keep up the almost maddeningly slow pace until Chrom spurs you on by whispering a breathless “ _Harder_.” in your ear. You growl in reply and grip his hips, not wasting any time by building up to a harsh pace and just going straight to pounding into him, angled so that you hit that sweet spot inside of him.

Chrom can’t even find the breath to cry out for a couple seconds, he just arches his back and lets his mouth hang open in a silent scream. And just like that he’s coming again while screaming wordlessly and his whole body shaking. He goes so tight that you can’t help but go rigid and come along with him with a grunt. But, for the first time in years, you feel like you can go a second round right after you’ve just come. You aren’t nearly done and it seems like he isn’t either because he’s already trying to rock himself onto you and begging you to keep going. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, need you Frederick...”

You sit up, lift his hips, and start fucking him into the bed. You can’t remember the last time you had sex that felt this good, you honestly don’t think you ever have. Your hands shake and you can’t really feel your fingers and toes but you don’t care because the rest of you is just so overwhelmed that you can’t really think. You look down at Chrom and he’s so blissed out that he can’t even say real words when he tries to babble at you, he just curses here and there and lets out half coherent syllables that don’t go together. He’s shaking and he looks so absolutely beautiful to you that your chest aches like you’ve been punched.

When you lean down and he wraps his arms around your back and scratches red lines into your skin in his desperation to get you closer. You bury your face in his neck and breathe in his scent and only one word plays on repeat in your head, just mine mine mine, “Mine.” You growl the word into his skin and you don’t even have the ability to think that what you’ve just said might be crossing some sort of line. When you feel him tighten a little around you and let out a sharp gasp. You say it again, and louder, “ _Mine._ ” You punctuate it with a hard thrust right against his prostate.

Chrom cries out and lightens his grip around your back, digging his fingers in so hard they’re sure to leave bruises. “Yours, yours, _I’m yours!_ ” He keens in reply. You can’t help but groan and bite down on his shoulder, hard enough to leave a ring of dark bruises in the shape of your teeth.

All of it is just so animalistic and primal but at the same time it’s so very _intimate_ that for a second you’re able to fool yourself into believing that he really means what he’s saying in the heat of the moment. You’re able to let yourself believe that he’s really yours and only yours. 

He starts to whimper and you see tears in the corner of his eyes but you know they aren’t from pain because he has a blissful grin on his face and a strand of drool going down his chin. You feel yourself coming so close it’s unbearable but he comes before you do. His back arches so high off the bed you think it might be a little painful for him. He also comes dry, which you think might also be a little painful but he doesn’t seem to mind much. He wails and it could be a very broken version of your name but you’re too busy with coming up on your own high to care. You slam your hips against his a few more times and then you’re gone, groaning out his name so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if someone in the next room over heard you through the stone walls. He whines at you a little when you spill into him but doesn’t protest beyond that.

You pull out of him carefully and collapse on the bed next to him, trying to catch your breath. Your skin slowly stops burning and that pink tint fades from your vision as whatever is in the lube starts to lose it’s effect. Chrom sounds like he’s trying not to hyperventilate beside you but he still manages to wheeze out a soft “Holy shit.” You just nod your agreement. 

It takes a couple more minutes for you both to catch your breath enough to actually talk. You hear rain hammering against the window and see a flash of blue light after a distant growl of thunder. You’d almost forgotten about the storm outside. You end up being the one to break the silence, “I think I know what makes that lube so special now.” You mumble into the chilly air of your room.

Chrom laughs, “You’re telling me. I think we need to ask Maribelle where she got that stuff so that we can get more if we run out. Consider me an addict.” He rolls over so that he can nestle against your side and drape one of his arms over your chest, resting his head on one of your pecs with a content smile. 

You smirk and card your fingers through his silky hair, “I’ll get more of it for you if it means we get to have sex like _that_ again.” You close your eyes and feel a pleasant kind of ache seep into your muscles as you settle. You think you might be tired enough to actually be able to sleep through the storm.

Chrom hums happily and nuzzles you when you gently run your fingernails over his scalp and the two of you fall into comfortable silence again until the two of you start getting cold. He grumbles at you to get you to move the two of you under the covers but you know that he’ll just end up dripping your cum all over the sheets if you do. So instead you get up, with a little groggy protest from Chrom, wet a handkerchief in your face washing basin before you wipe his oversensitive skin clean. You roll your eyes at him complaining about how cold it is until he offers to clean you up and you realize with a jolt due to the cold cloth right on your crotch that he wasn’t exaggerating. You also realize that he is being a turd and you revoke his handkerchief privileges while he laughs at you. Apparently he thought that the face you made when he stuck a cold handkerchief on your dick was funny. He’s lucky you love him, even if he doesn’t know it.

After a few minutes of getting settled, putting things away, and the two of you putting your undershorts back on but decide to leave your nightshirts off, you find yourself with Chrom half laying on you. He has his legs tangled with yours, his arm draped over your chest lazily, and his ear pressed to your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat with his eyes closed. You’ve noticed that it’s his favorite way to lay with you. You lay back and allow yourself to smile contently, having a rare moment of tranquility where you have nothing to worry about and you just let your mind wander. 

You contemplate blowing out the oil lamp so that you can go to sleep when Chrom whispers to you, “Care to tell me what you’re thinking about?” 

You crack open an eye and smile a little wider, “Nothing really, just,” You sigh softly, “Relaxing. How about you milo-, I mean, Chrom?” You reply, almost slipping up and falling back into your old habit of referring to him as “milord”. 

He snorts quietly but doesn’t point out your near mistake. After that he goes quiet for a second and you feel him stop smiling against your pectoral. “Well, I was just remembering something you said a little while ago, I suppose. But now that I think of it it’s probably nothing.” He replies.

You raise an eyebrow even though he can’t see it, “Hm? And what was that, if you don’t mind me asking?” You inquire softly. You try to remember if you said anything wrong or odd while the two of you were in the middle of fucking but you don’t really think you did, except for one thing that, now that you think about it, might have been a little too intimate for what you and him have. You hope he doesn’t remember just so that you don’t have to lie to him and tell him that you didn’t mean to call him yours, that it was just the chemicals in the lube talking.

“I guess… I remember that you, um… called me yours. I just wanted to know, uh, what you meant by that, I suppose.” He replies.

Shit. 

You silently curse to yourself in your head and wish you could just tell him the truth. You’re half sure that if he knew how you felt about him he’d call this whole thing off and maybe even turn your relationship into something strictly professional and not so personal. For all you know you having feelings for him could be a total turn off. He might just want a completely physical relationship with you, he could just find you physically attractive but not romantically. The thought stings but you still have to take it into account. The other half of you thinks that he would just ignore your confession and continue going on with you as you have been. You don’t know which possibility makes you hurt more. You know that there’s next to no possibility of him loving you back, in your mind he’s just not meant for you, he’s something out of reach and out of your league. 

You have no clue how long you were in your own head-space but Chrom pulls you out of it by shifting to look up at you from where he’s half laying on your chest and speaking up, “Frederick?” When he says your name like that he sounds unsure and a little scared and you can’t help but beat yourself up a little inside for losing track of how long you took in answering and making him concerned.

You clear your throat, “I’m sorry Chrom, I guess I got a little lost in my thoughts for a second. Well, um, the answer to that is a little bit complicated, to say the least.” You pause, still trying to figure out what to tell him. You glance up into his deep blue eyes and you know you can’t lie to him again, not to your Chrom. Even if it destroys what you have you can’t lie to him. You sigh heavily and let your head fall back so you won't have to look him in the eye as you answer, “This might make things complicated and awkward between us and I apologize in advance for that. I… I don’t know any other way to say this but I seem to have… I’m… Damnit, how am I supposed to say this?” You take a deep breath and try again, squeezing your eyes shut while you tried to force out the words. Why did this have to be so hard? Your stomach twists in knots as you continue, “Chrom, I-I have feelings for you that aren’t completely physical and aren’t at all professional and they sure as hell aren’t just friendship. I said what I said because for a second I… Well, I suppose I let my filter slip a little and I just let myself believe for a second that… That you and me- that you could actually be mine.”

You wait a second for an answer from him but he remains quiet so you start rambling nervously again to fill the silence, “I know that you most likely don’t feel that way about me so you don’t have to even answer if you don’t want to. Just sleeping with you and remaining friends is good enough for me or if it makes you uncomfortable then I can give you distance… B-but I just don’t want you to feel like you have to answer a certain way to me to spare my feelings. I care about you so I just want you to be happy and if you being happy takes me keeping my emotions to myself then I’m fine with that and-” You’re silenced when he presses two fingers to your lips. You open your eyes and see him leaning over you, looking at you with wide, shiny eyes like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Do… D-do you really mean all that?” He asks, his voice as wavering and fragile as a spider’s web in the breeze.

You nod, not sure what his reaction is going to be, “Yes, I meant every word of it.” You reply quietly. You never thought your stomach could feel to twisted and uncomfortable, he was the only one who could ever make you feel like this. He could destroy you with just a few words and it terrifies you more that you can express. You don’t know what the tears sitting on the edge of his eyelids mean, you’ve never been good at reading and predicting the emotions of others so Chrom feels volatile and unpredictable and scary to you right now. 

Chrom’s lower lip wobbles and he looks away as he can’t help but sniffle, trying to keep his tears at bay. He opens and closes his mouth for a few seconds. Your anxiety makes you assume the worst before he even says a word and your heart hurts so badly you can’t breath. But then he seems to find his words again, “Wow, u-um… I really sort of wish you’d told me that first thing.” He whispers, his voice taut like a bowstring. 

Your face remains still and neutral while the inside of your head is a hailstorm of anxiety and hurt and regret that you’d ever opened your big fat mouth and let your emotions get the best of you while fucking someone who doesn’t even love you back. You clear your throat and try to keep your voice as even as possible when you answer but you end up sounding so _vulnerable_ and you hate it, “Why do you say that?” 

To your surprise he laughs and it’s nervous but it’s not forced, “Because, you big, dense skulled lug, I’ve loved you since I was a teenager.” You can do nothing but stare at him in shock as more laughter bubbles out of him and he sniffles a couple more times before he continues, “Honestly, I don’t know how you didn’t notice earlier. I practically followed you around like a puppy, looking back on it now I can’t help but _cringe_ because I was just so… Gods, I wonder sometimes how the whole castle didn’t realize I was chasing after you. I was always setting things up so that I would be training under you and going on marches with you just so that we could be close when we weren’t at the castle. I just… Frederick? Frederick are you okay?” He stops talking and wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands when he glances down at you.

You barely notice but your eyes are wet and stinging and you start to feel your own tears cool in wet tracks down your temples. While he was talking you didn’t even realize you were crying until they were falling from your eyes and then you couldn’t stop them. You can’t remember the last time you cried but it was a long, long time ago and you can’t blame Chrom for being shocked and not knowing what to do because you don’t know what to do either. You blink, sniff, and reach up to wipe away the salty tears from the sides of your face. You decide that you’re foolish for letting your emotions get the best of you for a moment and try to calm him down, “My apologies, Chrom. I guess I just got a little frightened for a minute there. I’m fine, honestly.” You try to convince him but your own voice is tight and strange in your ears.

He smiles gently at you and pulls your hands away from your face to replace them with his own, wiping them away with soft touches. You can’t bring yourself to look at him even as he pulls you by the arm to sit up with him in bed. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and you squeeze him tight around his middle, burying your face in his neck to hide from him because the tears just won't stop coming and you don’t want him to see. “You don’t need to apologize to me for crying, Frederick.” He whispers in your ear and you let out a shaky sigh instead of speaking because you don’t trust your voice not to break and give away how scared you were. 

You aren’t completely sure what you feel, relief, some lingering panic and dread that you know you should be able to get past but you can’t shake it, frustration that you can’t just stop being so _anxious_ when you don’t need to be, just a huge rush of emotions coming at you at once. Chrom starts running his hands up and down your back soothingly and it makes you feel like he’s coddling you but it does help. “I didn’t realize you were so scared to tell me all that. You don’t have to answer right now if you don’t feel like it, but what did you think I was going to say?” He asks softly.

You take a little while to gather your thoughts out of the emotional tailspin you were just sent in. Eventually you’re able to clear your throat and hope your voice doesn’t sound too bad before you answer, “I suppose I just thought that you’d just want this to be something that didn’t involve… Emotional complications. I thought that my feeling for you would… Scare you away? I hope that makes sense.” You reply in a quiet, gravely voice against his damp neck.

He nods back at you, “That does make sense, I actually know how that feels and I’m glad you said it first because I would have never had the courage to admit my own feelings first. You’re much braver than I am.” He kisses you on your neck below your ear and takes a minute more to run his hands up and down your back. He continues once he seems to have thought some more. “But our ‘arrangement’ up until this point hasn’t really been all that… Emotionally uninvolved.” He says.

You pull away from his neck to look at him, confused, “What do you mean?” 

He flushes a little but explains, “Well, I’ve known people who were in a ‘no strings attached’ physical relationship and they weren’t like we are. They usually didn’t cuddle afterwards like we do, or act so close, or kiss just for the sake of kissing like we do. We managed to fool Maribelle into thinking we were lovers and she’s usually the more observant one when it comes to reading the relationships between people.” 

You blink and mull that over for a second before answering, “So we’ve been acting like a couple this whole time.”

“Yes.”

“The only people who thought we weren’t together was us.” 

“I guess so.”

“Chrom.”

“What?”

“I think I just realized something.” 

Chrom gives you a curious look, “What is it?”

“We started as friends. Then we both pleasured ourselves to the thought of the other on patrol, but didn’t want the other to know that we had been thinking about them. Then we ended up telling each other which ended up with us becoming sex friends. But we both had romantic feeling for each other, and again, didn’t want to tell the other but we ended up telling each other anyhow. Our whole relationship is ridiculous.” You state frankly.

He looks back at you with a blank expression before his expression falters and he starts laughing so hard he has to lean against your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh along with him, partly because he has an infectious laugh and also because the situation you’ve been in just seems so _funny_ to you now that you think about it. You both stop laughing eventually and you realize that you’ve also stopped crying. He leans back to look at you again and he’s smiling at you in that way that makes your brain stop working right and your stomach flutter. You think he could get some kind of award for a smile like that. “You're right, but we’re both kind of ridiculous so I’d say it fits us pretty well, don’t you think?” He says, placing a hand on your face and caressing the puffy skin under your eyes with his thumb.

You chuckle softly, “I can’t say I disagree with that.” You lean forward and rest your forehead on his, “I love you, Chrom.” You tell him softly.

He smiles before he turns his head a little to the side and kisses you like you’re his whole world. He pulls back after a few seconds and looks at you in a way that makes your chest feel so full it hurts. “I love you too, Frederick. Now, how about we go to sleep? It’s getting pretty late and the storm has passed by now.” He replies quietly.

You kiss him on his nose and pull him back with you as you lay back down, “Alright, I think I’d be able to sleep even if the storm was still going though. It’s been a long day. And a long night.” 

He hums his agreement, “G’night, Frederick.” He mumbles as he settles back down to lay on your chest again.

You smile, lay your head back down, and wrap your arm around his shoulders. “Goodnight, Chrom.” You don’t think you’ve ever been more content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If the two of you weren’t constantly on each other before the night you both first had sex then you definitely were afterwards. You really tried to be discreet when you were around people, you really did, but it was really hard when the two of you were in what was supposed to be “the honeymoon phase”. He would grab your ass in the middle of training when people weren’t looking with the excuse, “Well you were the one trying to fuck me with your eyes while I was sparring”, which you neither confirmed nor denied doing, by the way. You would drag him off to make out and rut up against each other in an empty corridor after a royal council meeting because he ran his hand along your thigh while you were trying to summarize patrol reports. It makes you feel like you’re a teenager again and you love every second of it. 

Maribelle told you that the two of you were “disgustingly adorable” during one of your get togethers over tea. She also told the two of you that the secret to what made the lube so “special” was that it had a trans-dermal aphrodisiac mixed in and it had a spell cast on it to make it fast acting. You have to commend her on her connections to be able to get something that was not only herbally but also magically imbued. Meanwhile Chrom was starting to call the three of yours’ get togethers “gay tea time”. You don’t really know what to think about that title but it got a good laugh out of Maribelle, who almost spit out her tea mid sip when he first suggested it.

“Honestly, you two make me feel like a lonely old spinster over here. Why do you have to be so… _Perfect_ together? I mean it, the two of you are practically giving me cavities with how overly affectionate you are.” Maribelle tells you before she takes a sip of her tea. It was an elderberry blend that she made and it tasted so good it didn’t even really need any sugar. All three of you tended to meet in her room and everything around you is as pink as the bows in her hair and as well put together as her outfits. You have to say that it’s exactly what you would expect of her.

Chrom snorts from beside you where he’s leaning against your side, “Are you sure those cavities aren’t from you eating all those pastries you’ve been getting from Gaius? I know you’re coping with my sister being so ‘regrettably oblivious’ to your affections, as you put it, but I think you need to cut back on the comfort food.” He retorts, giving her a mischievous look over the rim of his teacup as he takes a sip.

Maribelle rolls her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh, “Maybe it’s for the best that you’re more inclined towards being attracted to men, darling. You have no tact when it comes to speaking with a lady.” She shoots back as she gives him an equally sassy look while taking another sip of tea. They both start laughing and you shake your head and chuckle along with them. The two of them always poked fun at each other during these meetings, you think that the basis of their friendship is made up of scathing comments and teasing remarks.

Once they stop laughing Maribelle turns her attention towards you, “Dear Frederick, while I still remember, how far along did you say you were with that shawl? I hate to bother you about it but I’ve been curious as to how it’s coming along.” She inquires. She’s been much more polite to you rather than curt as of late, you don’t think you’ll ever really get the type of friendship she and Chrom share but it’s good to know that she was getting warmed up to you. 

“Oh, that’s right, I actually got done with it last night. Just a second.” You lean down to a bag you’d brought along with you and pull out the shawl which is carefully folded and wrapped in tissue paper to keep anything from getting on it. 

You hand it to her over the table and you see her face light up as she opens it and hold it up. The shawl is white and powder blue with silver fringe on the edges, delicately embroidered silver flowers, and silver thread in the seams. “Goodness, Frederick, you’re in the wrong profession! I’d say that you’re a born semester. Thank you very much, it almost puts the dress it’s going to go with to shame.” She gushes, running her fingers over the small silver flowers.

You look away in embarrassment, “You flatter me, milady. You’re welcome.”

“Huh, so that’s what you traded for that lube. It’s shockingly… Not pink. Quite the change from the usual. Speaking of wonderful little bottle of lubricant, where’d you get the stuff? I want to know where I need to go to stock up.” Chrom interjects.

“I’m trying on a new color, I’ve discovered that blue goes well with my skin tone, and I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, darling. A lady always has her secrets and I’m no different. But I _can_ get you more but only if you do me a teensy little favor.” She props her chin up with her elbow on the table.

Chrom narrows his eyes at her and you can’t say you don’t share his suspicion, “What exactly _is_ this ‘teensy little favor’?” He asks cautiously. 

She leans forward a little, “Well, I was just thinking that you could maybe start talking me up to lady Lissa, maybe butter her up for me enough for her to maybe consider allowing me to escort her to the upcoming ball?” She suggests innocently. 

Chrom stops leaning on you to sit up straight, “Maribelle, I am not going to hit on my younger sister for you! If you want her to go with you then court her yourself!” He says indignantly.

She scoffs at him, “I’m not asking you to _hit on her_ on my behalf, just simply bring me up, talk about me in a positive light to her and such. But if you really don’t want more of that special little elixir then I guess you don’t have to do it…” She trails off, feigning indifference. 

You think about the possibility of never getting any more of that lube again once it runs out. The two of you had used it a few more times since that first night and every single time you did you swear that it just keeps getting better every time. Not to mention it made you able to come more than once in a single night. “Do it, Chrom.” You deadpan next to him. 

He looks over at you with a scandalized expression, “Hey! Who’s side are you on?” 

“Chrom, we’re going to run out of it eventually.”

“ _Frederick!_ ”

“ _Chrom._ ”

“She’s my _sister_ -”

“ _Amazing sex._ ”

“... Fine I’ll do it…”

Two weeks of Chrom “talking up” Maribelle to Lissa results in Lissa having a conversation with Maribelle in private about how much Chrom had been talking about her lately. Lissa suggests to her that Chrom was interested in Maribelle. Poor lady Maribelle explained all this to you and Chrom while she was stuffing her face with chocolate eclairs, throwing her tact and poise out the window for slumping over the table and talking with her mouth full of pastry. The two of you did very poorly at holding back your laughter at the pure hilarity of the whole misunderstanding, although Chrom was a little worse than you, and he ended up getting beaned in the face with a half eaten eclair.

**Author's Note:**

> When will the government stop my sinful hand? Who knows, but in the meantime I hope you enjoyed. Be sure to leave some feedback if you enjoyed or have some tips and follow me on tumblr [here](http://thecatinthepurplepants.tumblr.com/) for updates on my writing stuff or just to follow me if you find my blog interesting enough. Thanks for reading and have a nice day!~


End file.
